


i want to but i can’t articulate (my feelings but i know you feel the same)

by elsinorerose



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, lightning bolt moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26271313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsinorerose/pseuds/elsinorerose
Summary: On the last day of TravelerCon, Jester hugs Caleb.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 35
Kudos: 153





	i want to but i can’t articulate (my feelings but i know you feel the same)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sydney for the idea that set this off. As I said in the group chat, apparently all it takes for me to write fic is (1) sleep deprivation and (2) a good enough prompt to spark the fumes of exhaustion into a creative flame. You are an excellent muse and a better friend.
> 
> (Title from “Sunlight” by Yuno.)

On the last day of TravelerCon, Jester hugs Caleb.

Not a big deal, really. Not the first time, won’t be the last. They’re standing inside one of the Vo huts, because they’re putting decorations away, because TravelerCon is over, because they  _ did it,  _ they saved an island and defeated a pseudo-god and gave everyone their memories back and threw a  _ fucking fantastic party  _ and fixed the Traveler’s problem and  _ maybe  _ started a second cult and it’s all a little overwhelming and —

“Hey. Jester.” She can hear the hint of a smile in his voice. “You can sit down for two seconds. You, uh...you are allowed, you know.”

She doesn’t sit, but she does turn to grin at him. “But who’s gonna put all these dick statues away if I don’t?”

“I am sure the good people of Vo can figure out where to put their own dicks,” Caleb replies with a straight face. 

Now she  _ beams.  _ “You’re learning!” she crows, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “I’m so  _ proud,  _ Caleb.”

“I have known you for almost a year, I would be a poor student indeed if I had not mastered dick jokes by now.” Caleb smiles softly down at her. “How does it feel, all of this…” He gestures vaguely towards the door of the hut. “...being over? Relief or disappointment?”

“Oh, you know, both.” Jester smirks. “Mostly relieved I don’t have to eat any more t-rex, honestly.”

Caleb lets out a dry chuckle. “You and me both.”

Jester laughs, and then, without really knowing why, she throws her arms around him, and she feels him freeze, as he always does when she hugs him or touches him or —

“Shit.” She lets go and steps back, blushing, still unable to stop the momentum of her laughter. “Sorry. I know you don’t like to be touched.”

Caleb is staring at her, that blank, stunned expression on his face that she’s seen so many times before. He blinks. Clears his throat. “No, it — it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Yeah you  _ do,” _ she protests with another self-conscious laugh, smoothing her skirts and staring down at her toes for just a moment. “I’ve seen Beau try to talk you into hugs before. It’s totally fine, don’t worry, I’ll be better about remembering.”

When she glances back up, she sees her blush mirrored on Caleb’s face. He swallows and rubs at the back of his neck. “I don’t mind when it’s you,” he clarifies softly, gaze fixed on the floor. 

The breath leaves her, and it’s — it’s not that it’s the first time she’s realized how handsome he is, it’s not even the first time she’s thought about what it might be like to — to — all right, to  _ kiss him, _ okay, she’s thought about that too (and why does that thought make her want to hide her face and scream into a pillow, when she openly flirted with Fjord for months without a shred of embarrassment?) It’s not that she’s never made Caleb blush before. She remembers that first month or so, back before she understood the depth of the darkness he carried with him everywhere, when she used to provoke him just for the pleasure of watching his cheeks flame red. (And she wonders why  _ that _ embarrasses her too, looking back, when she’s pulled worse tricks on so many other people, even her best friends, and thought nothing of it.) 

Maybe it’s just the quiet honesty with which he says the words. Or maybe...maybe...it’s the way the blush and the honesty and the hand-on-the-back-of-the-neck, can’t-look-you-in-the-eye  _ gentleness _ (and isn’t that strange, how this man, this haunted man who has done so much violence to other people and to himself, is the gentlest person she’s ever met) combine to make her realize: she’s special to him. Special in a way she hadn’t understood. A way he hadn’t  _ wanted _ her to understand, she sees that crystal clear in this moment, except that now, for whatever reason, even if it’s only for the blink of an eye, he’s dropping the veil. He’s telling her. He may deny it later, through words or actions or silence or inaction; he may  _ regret  _ it later — but this, right now, is deliberate. He wants her to know. Just for a moment.

And it wouldn’t be right, she understands in the space of the next breath, for her to respond to this gift, this moment of vulnerability, with...with what she  _ wants _ to do. (And oh, does she want it, sudden and fierce like a wave crashing over her out of an ocean made of fire — and that takes her aback, too, the strength of it, the way she has to almost  _ physically _ resist, as though against a magnet.) It wouldn’t be fair. He wouldn’t feel safe. 

So she kisses him on his cheek, instead, like she did all those months ago in a room with a piano and the smell of smoke and booze and just enough space between the chairs and tables to dance, maybe, if one were brave enough. And she smiles at him. “I don’t mind when it’s you either,” she murmurs. “I prefer it, actually.”

Caleb lifts his head and stares at her mutely, and Jester decides that right now is the perfect time to turn on her heel and walk out of the room, leaving him to deal with whatever just happened. Not because she’s scared, not because the intensity in his eyes holds the promise of a conversation she’s still not quite sure she’s ready to have yet — and certainly  _ not _ because she’s afraid he might laugh at her if he knew what she —

No, she admits to herself as she heads back outside, it is those things. If Caleb can be honest with her, surely she can manage to be honest with herself too. But it’s not  _ just _ those things. It’s something more, something that settles under her skin and transforms her pulse from the ordinary beat of blood into a song. 

She’s done with standing in front of someone, waiting for them to want her. She’s learned that from Fjord, from her father, even (as hard as it is to admit) from her mother, at times. She’s ready to leave the ball in someone else’s court, to leave a door open just a crack, while she gets on with the rest of her day. She’s ready to believe in herself, and to be brave enough for happiness. 

She thinks Caleb might be too.

_ fin _


End file.
